“That was a long time ago,” Jeff says, and I refrain from saying anything. Instead, I pick up my water.
“If you guys are so scared of the temptation and possibilities in Montana, then why don’t you guys send Erin with me?” Carter says, and my head snaps to him.
“What?” I whisper, but Carter just continues talking.
“It’s obviously a big job to keep me on the straight and narrow, so having Erin there for two weeks will help. We can go over all the tricks, and she can be in charge of my social media while I’m there, so it will also create buzz for the movie if she does the pictures from on set. You have to admit it’s a brilliant plan.”
I look over at Ryan and Sylvia. “Surely, you aren’t entertaining this ridiculous idea?”
Sylvia looks at Ryan, and then Ryan turns to me. “That isn’t a bad idea. Actually, it would be like hitting two birds with one stone. We can get the word out about the movie, and we can show that he’s changed his ways and is serious about his professional life more than his partying ways.”
“What’s the matter?” Carter says, and I turn to look at him. “Afraid the distance would be too much with your boyfriend?” he says, and if I could kick him under the table with my heel, I would.
“Your boyfriend?” Sylvia says, shocked, looking at me. I turn to look at her, and both she and Ryan are looking at me.
Turning back and glaring at Carter, I say quietly, “It’s a new thing.”
“This is a great idea,” Jeff says, and I’m baffled that everyone is agreeing to this crazy-ass plan.
“Hold on a second,” I finally say loudly, and everyone looks at me. “This is crazy. I’m going to go to Montana with him and follow him around to make sure the lock remains engaged on his chastity belt?”
“Erin, it won’t be like that. We aren’t asking you to follow him around but to do marketing,” Sylvia says. “We will also give you control of the company’s social media account, and I think it’s also a smart idea to create one with the movie title.”
“That is a great idea,” Ryan says. “It’s never too early to get the buzz going.” I shake my head, knowing I am not going to win this fight, and I’ll be spending the next two weeks in Montana with him.
Carter claps his hands together, knowing that he won, but I’m wondering why he’s so excited. Surely, me being there will be the major cock block that will prevent any activities on the down low. “I’m starving.” He picks up his menu, and I push to get out of the bench, grabbing my purse.
“Excuse me,” I say to the table and walk away before I do something stupid like tell my boss to fuck off or get his own ass to Montana. I’m about to push the brown door to enter the bathroom when I hear my name being called, and I turn to see it’s Ryan.
“Listen, I’m sorry we just blindsided you.” He starts talking, and I have to move out of the way when someone comes out of the bathroom and gives Ryan the once-over and then leaves with a smile. I look at him with his black hair short on the sides and long on the top pushed back no doubt by his hands. His brown eyes look almost black, and his scruff has a salt and pepper look to it. He’s wearing a black suit with a white shirt and no tie. His hands go to his hips. “We have invested a lot in this movie, and I need it to be perfect. And I need Carter to be angelic.”
I inhale a deep breath and then look at him. “I get it but Montana for two weeks? What if I can’t control him?”
“We will talk daily, and the minute you say the word or he crosses the line, I will pull you out,” he says to me, and I look down and then up again. I’m about to say something when Sylvia joins us.
“Sorry to break this up”—she looks at Ryan and then me—“but the waiter is going to be back in two minutes.”
“I’ll be right there,” I say, turning and going into the bathroom. I sit on the bench in the bathroom, the attendant in there waiting to offer me either hairspray or soap, and lean my head back and close my eyes for a moment. I make my way back to the table, sliding back onto the bench and putting the white linen napkin on my lap. The waiter comes back, and I can honestly say I have no idea what is discussed at dinner.
“So are you excited about Montana?” Carter asks me when everyone is eating, and Jeff, Sylvia, and Ryan are talking about politics.
“No,” I say, not looking up at him as I eat my fish.
“That’s too bad. It’s beautiful there. It’s called Big Sky Country for a reason. I think you’ll love it there,” he says, and I look up at him. He picks up his glass and brings it to his lips, trying to hide the smirk. “I’ll show you around.” I look down at my food without answering, and the rest of the meal drags by. When I can finally make my exit, I do.
“If you guys will excuse me,” I say, getting up, “I have another engagement I have to get to.”
Carter gets up, tossing his napkin on the table.
“I’ll walk you out,” he says. “I was leaving anyway.” He shakes everyone’s hand and then turns to walk with me out of the restaurant. “Did you drive here?”
“No,” I say as I walk, and I feel his hand on my lower back. “I’m going to grab a cab.” Walking out of the hotel, I see the valet.
“We need a car and driver,” Carter says, and I stand there holding my purse in front of me. “I’ll drop you off and then go home.”
I don’t stand next to him as we wait for the car. The flashes are going off, and they are all screaming his name for him to turn around to them, but he looks down at his phone instead. After the black town car pulls up and the valet opens the back door, I step into it while Carter walks around the car and gets in beside me. I give the driver my address, and he takes off.
“Why are you so angry?” he says, and I turn toward him, my back against the door.
“You just blindsided me in front of my boss by requesting I come with you to fucking Montana,” I finally say.
“I just thought it would make everyone happy,” he says. His body mimics my position except he stretches out one arm around the back of the seat. “Remember, this arrangement is huge for both of us.”
“Isn’t having me there going to be, um, me cock blocking you?” I ask him, and I don’t wait for him to answer. “We are going to be living with each other for fourteen days, and the thought of walking in on you in one of your compromising positions when I’m there to do my fucking job isn’t high on my list of must-see sights in Montana.”
“It’s a nice house,” he says, not even answering the first part of my question or responding to my vitriol about me being there to do a job.
“Tell me something, Mr. Straight and Narrow, what’s the longest you’ve gone without sex in days . . . or hours, whichever is the longest?” I fold my arms over my chest, not even sure I want to know or why I asked this question but needing to know what I’m truly up against.
He shakes his head. “I’ll be fine celibate, no worries. And to answer your question, fifteen years is the longest, but the minute I lost my virginity, it was game on.” That fucking smirk is back. He starts tapping the seat with his finger. “Besides, what are you going to tell the boyfriend?” I don’t have to answer him because the car comes to a stop. “I’ll pick you up Monday morning at nine. The plane takes off at ten. It’s a three-hour flight.” I grab the handle of the car door to open it, and his hand falls on my other hand that is still on the seat.
“I promise you that I’ll be on my best behavior, and I won’t let you regret it.” I look down at his hand on mine, his whole hand covering my small one, and I just nod at him. The driver walks around to open the door for me, and I get out and walk to my condo without looking back. I feel his eyes on me; I feel him following me until I am in the safety of my apartment. I don’t turn on the lights as I make my way into my bedroom. Undressing, I enter the bathroom and wash off the light makeup that I put on and then turn to get into bed. I don’t bother with any pjs. I toss and turn most of the night, thinking. Finally giving up, I grab my robe and make my way to the kitchen where I make m
yself a cup of coffee and go to the couch, flipping the television on. I grab my phone to see the Google alerts going off about Carter, and I open my mouth when I see the first picture that comes up of me and him walking out and getting in the same car.
Is Carter Johnson getting tamed?
Reading the headline, I shake my head and then see fifteen different pictures of us on Google. My phone rings in my hand. Looking down, I see it’s my father, and when I check the time, it’s just past eight.
“Good morning,” he says when I finally answer. “Did you sleep okay?”
“No,” I tell him. “I’m going to Montana. Fucking Montana.”
“It’s very pretty there. Big Sky Country and all,” he says. “Are we still on for lunch?”
“Yeah, I know about Big Sky Country. Dad, I have to pack,” I tell him.
“You have to eat also and relax a bit from the sound of it,” he tells me. “I already told Christina you are coming, and she’s been cooking since seven.” He mentions his personal cook who has been with him for a decade.
“Fine, I’ll swing by but not for long,” I tell him and then hang up. “Two weeks.” I shake my head. “Fourteen days.” I sit on the couch still baffled.
Chapter Nine
Carter
“I can’t even believe that you got them to agree to Erin accompanying you,” Jeff says from the phone that I’m holding with my shoulder to my ear as I throw my things into my luggage.
“I have to pick Erin up in forty-five minutes. Should I bring her coffee? How does she take her coffee?” I stop packing and think about what I just said. Not once have I ever given a fuck about how a woman takes her coffee. Jesus, what is wrong with me?
“Just order it black and bring the stuff on the side,” Jeff answers, and I have to sit on my bed. Am I dying?
“I’ll call you tomorrow. Don’t forget to cancel my other number,” I tell him and toss my new phone on the bed. I was not going to fuck up this opportunity with temptation and invitations from women, so I went online and bought a brand-new phone. Cancelling my other one. I’ve given my number to one person so far, Jeff, for now. “What do I care what she takes in her coffee, and why do I even want to bring her coffee?” Because you want her to like you. I shake my head and rub my face with both my hands. I haven’t had sex in two days. Wait, when was the last time I had sex? Thursday night so I start counting on my hands, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday. Four days. I haven’t gone four days since I was fifteen years old. Maybe going without sex will have a long-term impact on my damn brain.
I finish packing and bring my two bags to the door. Well, my big luggage and my backpack that I put my iPad and the script in. I walk into the garage and grab a baseball hat and then get into my Range Rover. I make my way to her house, stopping at Starbucks right before. When I pull up to her condo, she is downstairs waiting with her luggage next to her.
“Sorry, I’m late,” I say, getting out and opening the trunk. “I stopped to get you coffee,” I tell her as she rolls her luggage to me. I see that she is wearing tights and a white shirt with a long mustard-colored sweater, and she has a big black, gray, and beige scarf rolled around her neck, covering the top of her shirt. A black backpack is slung over her shoulder. I can’t see her eyes with her black squared glasses hiding them, and maybe it’s a good thing, so I can’t see the death glare I’m sure she’s giving me.
“Thank you,” she says when I pick up her luggage and put it in the back next to mine. She opens the back door, putting her backpack there and then opens the front passenger door, but she doesn’t get in. “How many coffees did you get?” she asks, looking down at the two carryout trays that hold eight coffees.
“I didn’t know which one you drank, so I improvised,” I tell her, smiling and getting in as she gets in and places her feet on the sides of the carryout containers. “I got regular latte, vanilla latte, Americano, white chocolate mocha, regular mocha, chai latte tea, green tea, and if you don’t drink any of those, hot chocolate.” She looks down and then she looks up at me, and the smile she gives me makes it worth the crazy amount of money I just paid for coffee. It makes everything worth it.
“What do you drink?” she asks me, looking down.
“Regular coffee,” I say, laughing and pulling away from the curb to make my way over to the air field. “Why aren’t you drinking?” I ask her when she sits back and looks outside.
“Because I’m going to wait until we get on the plane, and we can have coffee together,” she says, and I just nod. I don’t know why it feels good to have her not just take the coffee and drink it but also want to wait for me to enjoy it with her. I guess it’s the normal thing that people do, but I’m not used to it. When we pull up to the airport, I drive straight to the plane. The white plane waits with the red carpet rolled out and the stairs down. When I pull up and shut off the car, I get out, and I see a guy running over to us.
“Good morning, sir,” he says, going to the back hatch of my Range Rover and opening it to grab the luggage. After I open the back door and grab my backpack, I walk around the car to see that Erin is already out with her backpack over her shoulder, and she is holding a tray of coffee.
“I’ll get the other one,” I tell her, and she moves away from me, and then I lean in and grab the tray. “I left the keys in the car,” I tell the guy who just finished loading our luggage in the plane. He is going to drop off my car, another service that money pays for. “Ready?” I ask her, walking up the five steps that lead into the private plane.
“Good morning, Mr. Johnson.” The blond man stands there at the door in his blue suit with his hands folded in front of him. “Welcome aboard.”
I nod at him and walk onto the plane. White cream leather lines the sides with two white leather seats on each side and a table in the middle. I place my tray on the table and look over to see that the man is now laughing with Erin. I grit my teeth. “You can put it down here,” I say loud enough, and they stop talking. She walks to me, placing the tray on the table. I’m expecting her to look around and ooh and ahh over a private plane, but she doesn’t. She takes off her sunglasses and puts them in her backpack, then sits down on one of the chairs. “After we take off, we can go sit on the couch,” I tell her, motioning to the couch that is just behind the chairs. There are two chairs in front of the couch also.
“Is it just us?” she asks, looking around.
“We are getting ready for takeoff,” the pilot says over the speaker, and I look over at the flight attendant who is shutting the door and bringing in the stairs.
I sit in front of her. “It’s just us.” I answer her question and then change the subject before she jumps off the plane. “So which one are you going to drink?” I ask her, and she leans back in her chair.
“Let’s do a taste testing,” she says and leans in, opening all the covers. “Maybe you will find one you like instead of just ‘regular.’” She uses her fingers to do air quotes. The plane starts to move when she takes one out. “Okay, this is a regular latte,” she says, reading the label on the side. She brings it to her mouth and takes a sip. “I mean, it’s basic.” She hands me the cup, and I bring it to my lips.
“It’s coffee,” I tell her, and she just shakes her head as I put it back into the holder. “So far, that’s my favorite.”
“We’ve only done one,” she says, laughing, and I like the sound of it. It’s comfortable. “This is the vanilla latte.” She takes a sip and passes it to me.
“That’s too much sugar,” I say to her. She laughs again when I grimace, and the sound of her laughter does something to me. I bring my hand up to my head to feel if I’m warm; maybe I’m coming down with a fever. After tasting all eight drinks, I find some are downright nasty. “So, I’m going with number one followed by the green tea,” I tell her, and she throws her head back and lets out a huge belly laugh.
“I’m going with the vanilla latte. No second,” she says and then grabs the glass of water that the guy put in front of us
right after we took off. He comes back and picks up all the coffee and then asks us if we are ready to eat. “Take a selfie for Instagram,” she says, and I take my phone out of my pocket and snap a picture of myself. I show it to her, and she just nods. “Send it to me so I can put it on the movie Instagram page.”
I send it to her, and her eyes look up at me once she hears a ping on her phone. “What number is this?”
I lean back in my chair and watch her face. “It’s my new number. I canceled my other one.”
She mimics my posture, leaning back in her chair. “Why?”
“Because if I’m going to do this, I’m going to do it right,” I tell her honestly.
“You mean you don’t want temptation?” She sees right through me.
“Either way, the bottom line is I have a new number, so just store it in your phone,” I tell her, and she doesn’t say anything because our food arrives.
He comes out with two trays, placing both in the middle of the table. Eggs, bacon, and sausage are on one, and pancakes and waffles are on the other. He leaves and comes back with empty plates for us and a basket of fresh bread. “Would you like coffee with that?” he asks, and I shake my head, grabbing a waffle.
“Can I have a mimosa?” Erin asks, and he looks at me, and I just shake my head again as he walks away. “You don’t drink?”
I grab a roll that is still steaming. “No.”
“Is it okay if I drink it?” she asks, her tone soft. “It’s fine either way.”
I pick up the spoon and scoop up some eggs. “When I turned eighteen, I basically almost hit rock bottom. I was getting shitfaced every single night.” I take a bite of food and look at her, and she looks at me with a sadness in her eyes. Not pity but sadness. “Anyway, I blacked out more times than I cared, so when I went to Jeff, I went cold turkey, and now I don’t drink. Not that I have a problem but because I choose not to.”
She leans over, her hand grabbing my hand next to my plate. “That is a really mature thing to do,” she says. “You should be proud.”
Hollywood Prince Page 6
